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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25368325">Spider Webs and Dead Moths</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittyBrit/pseuds/LittyBrit'>LittyBrit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Physical Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:42:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25368325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittyBrit/pseuds/LittyBrit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Minutes after Charlie's disastrous broadcast, Valentino makes his way to the hotel she sang so loudly about. </p><p>Someone very important is staying there. </p><p>That cannot be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angel Dust/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>283</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Flame</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stabbing the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray in his armrest, Valentino watched wisps of red smoke drift up from the pulp and seethed. The girls knew better than to play in his lap tonight. The skin of their legs rubbed against the leather seats as they shifted further away from him. </p><p>The darkness outside flashed with artificial colour as they swept through the streets. The flashes stung Val’s eyes through his shades. Averting his gaze, the pimp checked his phone, spitting expletives as he mistapped and opened random nonsense.</p><p>Biting his tongue, Val brought up the conversation between Angel and himself, refreshing and refreshing.</p><p>His last message glared red from the screen: <em> Did you get the money, Angel baby? </em></p><p>Unanswered. Unseen. Just like his calls. And his voicemails.</p><p>“That <em> bitch</em>!” </p><p>The girls flinched as Val screamed for the driver to turn around. He hadn’t believed it at first. He couldn’t believe that Angel would disobey him again. That was their golden rule - Angel’s home was in Val’s studio, nowhere else. Angel had no business being anywhere else, because the studio <em> was </em>his business and Valentino was the man who owned both. </p><p>Val’s jagged yellow teeth clenched. Now he knew where Angel had been all those times before. The Devil’s little princess broadcast it live to all of Hell.</p><p>Val had forgiven his baby so many times, but not tonight. His nails itched to claw at something, anything. Angel. Hurt him. Punish him... </p><p>With shaking fingers, Val lit another cigarette and puffed.</p><p>What did that ungrateful slut think he was doing? A <em>hotel</em>? He had a damn fine bed in the studio, the best bed he could ever dream of, a bed on which Val had pleasured him many a night. Food, too. Angel had all the food he could stuff in his mouth, and more. Did Val’s money mean so little that a shitty side-job at a doomed princess project was better? Was Val a weak, wingless moth in Angel's empty web, left to die and rot?</p><p>Val stamped the cigarette out and called Angel again, twisting the buttons on his coat as he listened to the drone.</p><p>When the voicemail recording kicked in, the moth demon listened. Waited for the beep. He felt eerily calm, similar to the drowsiness of waking, although the fist of his left hand had the shakes.</p><p>“Hello, baby," Val said. "I know where you are right now. I watch TV too, didn’t you know that?” He chuckled. “Of course you do, you’re not that stupid. But I <em> am </em>a bit concerned, Angel, baby. Did you get blackout drunk again? You sleepin’ it off, with Lucifer’s girl? No?”</p><p>The button he had been fiddling with snapped off. “THEN WHY ARE YOU NOT AT MY STUDIO, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE CUNT? DO YOU ENJOY DISAPPOINTING ME? DOES IT GIVE YOU A HIGH? YOU ARE VALENTINO’S FUCKHOLE AND THAT’S ALL YOU ARE!”</p><p>Heaving breaths, he spat: “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll find you - and I will, Angel Cakes, I promise you that - and you’ll re-learn what I taught you: <em> You live at my studio. You work at my studio. You do not go anywhere - ANYWHERE - without me or my say-so.</em>”</p><p>He paused, as if collecting himself. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, loving. “Darling. Your web is here, with me. <em> Our </em>web. Understand? I want you home, sweetheart. I’m coming to pick you up. Be ready. Or not.”</p><p>Val ended the call and sank back into his seat. He was tired. Angry, still, but much of his fury had emptied into the limo’s smokey pink dim. Angel was stressful work, but worth it in the end. Always worth it.</p><p>The moth demon smiled and reached out for the two women at the other end of the limo, their backs pressed against the divider. “Come, my loves, come here. Don’t look at me that way, come here…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sweetheart Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everybody! I'm so sorry the second part was so long coming. Truthfully, seeing so many of you lovely people enjoying the first bit made me nervous - I really wanted to do right by the first instalment and your expectations. I hope I did! Enjoy!</p><p>Trivia: The title was inspired by the lyrics of 'The Moth' by Aimee Mann. Great song, very fitting for Valentino. If you haven't heard it, I recommend giving it a listen!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Valentino looked up at the neon sign atop the multi-story hodge-podge establishment and smirked. No part of the building belonged together, just like the people in it. </p><p><em>Hazbin Hotel.</em> You’re damn fucking right.</p><p>Still, there was one ‘hazbin’ Valentino had business with. A contract, signed by both parties, and not something that could be scrapped and forgotten like an old newspaper!</p><p>The crimson exterior and gold accents of the hotel appealed to Valentino’s eye, but the light behind the windows pleased him more. </p><p>Leaving the limo behind, he dipped his head under the canopy and approached the front door.  He tried to peer in, but he couldn't see through the coloured glass. He could hear voices, however. Familiar voices. Frightened, angry voices. </p><p>When Angel’s frightened, angry voice drowned the others, Valentino grinned. <em>That</em> was the voice he came to hear - the voice he would always come back for, no matter how much sass it gave him.</p><p>There would be no sass today. No excuses. No <em>bullshit</em>. </p><p>He knocked. It was a reasonable knock; calm and measured, like himself. The voices on the other side of the door rose sharply, like a flame, before fizzling out. </p><p>He waited. </p><p>When the front door opened, and the first sight to greet him was Charlie, the devil’s only daughter. Of course, Valentino had expected her - this was <em>her</em> hotel, after all, <em>her </em>project. </p><p>The guilty flicker of her eyes pleased him. She knew why he was here, and she knew the part she played in it. </p><p>With a smooth motion, Valentino removed his hat and bowed. “Your Highness! It’s been too long, how <em>wonderful</em> to see you again. I hope I am not interrupting any business?”</p><p>The girl’s smile was small and weak, like a dying flame. “I’m glad to see you, too, Lord Valentino. Can I help you?”</p><p>Valentino straightened up. She was going to play dumb? Fine. </p><p>"I think you <em>can</em>," he said. "I’m looking for a guest I believe is residing in your hotel. I've been running up and down Pentagram City for him.” </p><p>“Well -”</p><p>Valentino stepped past her into the hallway and was instantly beset by a small, screeching one-eyed girl with pink hair. Her arms flailed madly as she tried to slap the cigarette out of his hand.</p><p>“Nope!” she shouted. “No smoke! Ladies shouldn’t smoke, didn’t you know that? You did, didn’t you? You’re a lady, right? You’re wearing a ladies’ coat! You’re a weird lady! <em>No smoke!</em>”</p><p>“Niffty, stop!” Charlie tried to grab her, but the little demon dodged easily. No matter how many times Valentino swatted her away, she kept coming back. </p><p>He raised a hand.</p><p>A flash of red whisked the girl to safety, and suddenly Valentino was staring at the grinning Radio Demon, the struggling one-eye'd pest tucked under his arm.</p><p>Valentino frowned. Of all people to take an interest in the princess’s little scheme, of <em>course</em> it had to be Alastor. </p><p>“Come now, dear,” Alastor chided the girl, “don’t be rude to our guest!”</p><p>“But-!”</p><p>“I think that awful <em>rat</em> might be back again,” he went on, inclining his head towards the ceiling. “I think I saw it nibbling one of the chairs -”</p><p>"Oh <em>no</em> they don't!"</p><p>Niffty seized a feather duster and ran screaming down the hall and round the corner. Silence returned, interrupted by the occasional crackles of static from Alastor’s radio staff.</p><p>Valentino brushed his coat and regained his composure. Finally, he could focus on the one person he came here for: Angel Dust.</p><p>The slut at least had the sense to look guilty. He stood beside a scowling, white-haired woman Valentino didn’t recognise, clutching himself and averting his eyes, as if looking small and sweet would help him.</p><p>Valentino noticed the messy ruffles in Angel’s white fur, and the tremor in his legs. </p><p>“I don’t know what to say to you,” he said. “No matter how many times I tell you, you don't listen.”</p><p>“Val, I-!”</p><p>Valentino stepped forward, closing the gap between his fist and Angel’s teeth. “You think I came here to hear excuses?”</p><p>Suddenly Charlie was blocking his way, her pleading eyes so like, yet unlike, her father’s.</p><p>The Overlord stood very still. “What is the matter, princess?”</p><p>“Look,” the girl fumbled, “this is my fault. I should have -”</p><p>“Shhh!” Valentino patted her head like she was made of glass. “There, there. That’s a matter for later.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Listen, Angel-Cakes,” he said, talking over her. “If you come clean to me now, we can go home and forget this ever happened.” </p><p>He started walking again, and this time, nobody stopped him. </p><p>“I know I said some angry things, baby,” he went on. “Mean things. Bad things. I was angry. But you know what? I was scared too. This place is <em>dangerous</em>, Angel, you know that. But I can’t protect you from fuckers like <em>him -</em>” He flicked a hand at Alastor, “- when you’re away from the web, can I?”</p><p>Angel did nothing but tremble. It pissed him off, but Valentino pushed his anger down and continued in the same soft, even tone.</p><p>“Don’t you know what it does to me when I don’t know where you are, or what you’re doing? Don’t you <em>care?</em>”</p><p>Valentino blew out a cloud of smoke. The hallway stank of spices, the kind that got in through your nose and your mouth and lingered, and Val was pleased to hear Alastor cough. He hoped he <em>choked</em>.</p><p>The moth leaned close and took Angel’s face in his hand. “All I want is for us to go <em>home</em> now, baby.” He squeezed to stop the shakes. “Let’s go. No drama. No fuss.”</p><p>Relaxing his grip allowed Angel to open his mouth - his pleading, pathetic, adorable mouth - but only air came out.</p><p>“Hey, asshole!” a harsh voice barked. “Can’t you see he’s scared of you?”</p><p>"Vaggie, don't!" </p><p>Valentino looked at the white-haired woman. He smirked. “And who the fuck are you?”</p><p>“I’m the manager!”</p><p>Valentino laughed. “Hi, I’m Angel’s <em>boss</em>, and he had no business being here.”</p><p>“Who says so?”</p><p>Valentino stood over her. “<em>I</em> say, and so does the contract <em>he</em> signed! The contract with <em>no</em> expiration date! The contract <em>I made!</em>”</p><p>A harsh clicking sound sounded in Valentino’s throat as his voice rose, the kind some moths use to tell predators to fuck off or die.</p><p>Valentino watched with satisfaction as the fire in Vaggie's eyes dimmed. She was smarter than her little girlfriend.</p><p>Charlie grasped his arm. “Please, Lord Valentino -”</p><p>He shook her off. “I have <em>nothing</em> to discuss with you! You of <em>all</em> people would know who Angel worked for." A sweet, deadly smile crossed his lips. "Say, when <em>exactly</em> were you going to ask me if you could borrow my employee for your stupid little dream, princess? I’d like to know!”</p><p>When the girl averted her eyes, the moth demon leaned down close and hissed right into her face: "<em>If you ever take anything of mine into this building without my express permission again, I burn it to the ground</em>.”</p><p>Vaggie exploded. “Hey, you can’t fucking -!”</p><p>It was only a little slap, barely a touch of his fingers, but the woman crashed into an old cabinet like she’d been hit by a train. </p><p>Noise erupted from all sides. Charlie screaming, Angel begging for mercy, and the woman yelling in spite of the blood and pain for Alastor to <em>fucking do something</em>.</p><p>Valentino turned to face the Radio Demon. He was so close Valentino could see the specks of red in his pupils. The screeching from the demon’s radio hurt his ears, but the moth simply sucked on his cigarette and let smoke drift between the gaps in his teeth. Alastor had stakes in this place, he wasn't gonna put so much as a scratch on it, and a fight between them would do <em>more</em> than that.</p><p>The red devil blinked - and flashed his best radio smile, like he'd switched a frequency in his head. “Please forgive our manager’s rudeness,” he said. “She’s not quite perfected the art of customer relations yet.”</p><p>“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Vaggie roared, spitting blood.</p><p>“However, I want this place to stay open for business a while,” Alastor continued. “If the business never picks up, how can it fall?”</p><p>Valentino smiled. “How, indeed?”</p><p>Stepping back, the Radio Demon offered a hand as if inviting Val to sit. “Come, let's be reasonable. I'm sure we can hash out a deal we'll <em>all</em> be happy with!”</p><p>“Save it,” said Val, glancing at the hand as if it had teeth. “I make deals that benefit <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“Then <em>I’ll</em> make one.” </p><p>Valentino turned to see Charlie approaching them. Her golden eyes burned as bright as Hell's sun, the white now red as the eternal sky. The Devil's eyes.</p><p>He chuckled. “After the shit you pulled, you’d <em>better</em> give me something good.”</p><p>“Alright,” Charlie said. “How about this? Whenever Angel is not working with you, he stays at this hotel to help with my project.”</p><p>Excitement fluttered in Valentino’s chest. He was attracted to the fire in things, always had been, and the fire in this girl’s eyes <em>raged</em>. </p><p>“And why should I allow that?”</p><p>“Give me a year," she said. "If I can’t rehabilitate Angel by the next extermination, he's yours again."</p><p>"Is that all?"</p><p>"No,” she said. “I will pay every penny of his rent for the year, and any money lost due to his stay.”</p><p>Valentino laughed. “With your pitiful allowance?" </p><p>“I can pay it." God, her eyes <em>burned</em>. Valentino felt the clothes on his back start to stick. He clenched a fist hard to calm down. This was business.</p><p>"You don't know what Angel's bills are, and more importantly, you don't know what he makes me.” He sneered. “And believe me, hun, <em>it's more than Daddy gives you.</em>" </p><p>Charlie didn’t flinch. "I'll sell the hotel."</p><p>“<em>What?</em>” Vaggie cried.</p><p>"You might as well!” the demon snorted. “What else?" </p><p>"Whatever I need."</p><p>Valentino’s eyes narrowed. "Even…?"</p><p>"No!” Vaggie screamed, staggering to her feet. “Get your fucking eyes off her, you creep! I’ll sell my body before you touch her!" </p><p>The moth giggled. “Settle down, sugar, you’re getting blood all over the carpet.” </p><p>Charlie held the girl back as Valentino tapped a pondering finger on his cheek. “But what if, by some insane miracle, you succeed, and I lose my best worker? How are you going to pay for that, hm? No money in this entire fucking pit can replace <em>his</em> money-maker - <em>ha!</em>" </p><p>Silence. Static. </p><p>Then, finally: "You decide."</p><p>The hotel rang with Valentino and Alastor’s hysterical laughter.</p><p>Vaggie grabbed Charlie’s shoulders and shook her. "Charlie, no! What are you doing?!" </p><p>Valentino clamped a hand to his mouth to stop his giggles, but his body shuddered uncontrollably. "Oh, sweetheart - oh <em>sweetheart!</em> Ha! I almost feel bad. It's not looking good for you, not one bit."</p><p>Charlie's pretty mouth smirked. "I like adversity."</p><p>“Really? You take after your daddy in one respect, at least.”</p><p>Her smile fell. “Guess I do.” </p><p>Their business settled, Valentino turned his attention to He looked at Angel; weak, lovable, supremely fuckable Angel. "This fucking wreck is <em>not</em> worth your time."</p><p>"I think he is,” Charlie said.</p><p>The moth sneered. "Big mistake, sugar. Big mistake."</p><p>"Do you accept, Lord Valentino?"</p><p>Valentino watched her face for a few seconds. Her bluster was thrilling, but the values from which it came were so pathetic he felt like laughing all over again. He met Alastor’s gaze, saw the mirth dancing in his eyes, and knew exactly where the Radio Demon stood on the matter. </p><p>“I do," he said, "but I’m not a man who leaves his words for people to fix and fuck-up. I like more… physical reassurance.” He winked and patted his chest. “Good old pen and paper, that’s me. None of this <em>hoodoo bullshit</em>.”</p><p>He shot Alastor a spiteful grin, happily ignoring the hissing of static he got in response. Valentino was disappointed, however, when he saw Charlie dawdling in front of him. The blaze that had roared in her just minutes ago was a tiny, jittering flame, the kind nobody has the bother to put out, because you know it's going anyway. Only seconds till <em>fsss</em>.</p><p>Valentino clapped his hands and the little flame jerked. “Pen. Paper. Now.”</p><p>Charlie scurried off, followed by Vaggie, whispering frantically to each other. Angel didn't move, didn't look, as if he were dead web meat already. </p><p>Val kept his eye on Alastor, and the Radio Demon kept his eye on him. </p><p>When Charlie returned with the things, Valentino whipped them out of her hand, retrieved a pen from the depths of his coat, and carefully detailed the specifics of their contract.  </p><p>When he was done, he handed the pen and paper over to Charlie. </p><p>"Sign here, please."</p><p>She obeyed, handing it over to Angel when she was done. Angel's hands trembled a bit as he put down his name, and even more when he held it for Valentino to take.</p><p>Valentino gave it a once-over, a slow, deliberate once-over, and smirked. Taking a long, deep puff, he blew smoke at the page, engulfing it in a thick red cloud. When it emerged, the page was stained pink with its maker's seal. </p><p>He rolled up the paper and returned it to the depths of his coat. With the biggest smile, he looked at each of their faces, saving the princess for last.</p><p>“Now it’s done. I don’t think I need to tell you what happens to people to break my contracts.”</p><p>Charlie shook her head. </p><p>The moth bowed, doffing his hat to all present. His insect eyes lingered on Angel’s face as he turned to go, drinking in the helplessness in it like it was nectar.</p><p>"Good night, your Highness. And Angel, I better see your ass first thing tomorrow morning. Understand?" </p><p>The little voice he came to hear answered: “Yes, Val.”</p><p>Alastor piped up with some inane, cheerful farewell, but Valentino was out the door and deaf to anything he had to say. </p><hr/><p>Valentino sank into his seat and watched the swirls of red mix with the neon pink that tinted the limo’s darkness. His girls were splayed out across the seats, naked and wet with booze and cum. </p><p>Charlie’s defiant eyes seemed to manifest in the haze. Val smiled, hot and stinking in his own sweat. The day she realised her mistake, Angel would be warming his lap with a few fistfuls of cash stuffed in his throat. Ha! And that contract in the fuckhole that belonged to him!</p><p>The moth laughed and felt the silk of his wings, warmed by heat. In Hell, spider webs and dead moths were not a natural law, an unquestioned destiny. Their new lives were dictated by fire, by the blaze inside as much as out. And Val burned so bright even spiders left their safety and their senses to look. How was it his fault when they choked and burned?</p><p>Mashing his cigarette into a tray, Valentino's eyes alighted upon the two sleeping girls. Drunk on the passion of a foolish soul, he crept spider-like across leather towards them. </p>
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